coat and pink neckcloth, with the gold-headed whip, who promised to
show him the Tower of London and take him out with the Surrey hounds." At
last he said: "There was an old gentleman, with thick eyebrows and a
brown hat and large chain and seals. He came one day as the coachman was
leading Georgie around the lawn on the grey pony. He looked at me very
much. He shook very much. I said, 'My name is Norval,' after dinner. My
aunt began to cry. She is always crying." Such was George's report on
that night.

Then Amelia knew that the boy had seen his grandfather; and looked out
feverishly for a proposal which she was sure would follow, and which
came, in fact, a few days afterwards. Mr. Osborne formally offered to
take the boy, and make him heir to the fortune which he had intended
that his father should inherit. He would make Mrs. George Osborne an
allowance, such as to assure her a decent competency. But it must be
understood that the child would live entirely with his grandfather and be
only occasionally permitted to see Mrs. George Osborne at her own home.
This message was brought to her in a letter one day. She had only been
seen angry a few times in her life, but now Mr. Osborne's lawyer so
beheld her. She rose up trembling and flushing very much after reading
the letter, and she tore the paper into a hundred fragments, which she
trod on. "_I_ take money to part from my child! Who dares insult me
proposing such a thing? Tell Mr. Osborne it is a cowardly letter, sir--a
cowardly letter--I will not answer it! I wish you good-morning," and she
bowed the lawyer out of the room like a tragedy queen.

Her parents did not remark her agitation on that day. They were absorbed
in their own affairs, and the old gentleman, her father, was deep in
speculation, in which he was sinking the remittances regularly sent from
India by his son, Joseph, for the support of his aged parents; and also
that portion of Amelia's slender income which she gave each month to her
father. Of this dangerous pastime of her father's Amelia was kept in
ignorance, until the day came when he was obliged to confess that he was
penniless. At once Amelia handed over to him what little money she had
retained for her own and Georgie's expenses. She did this without a word
of regret, but returned to her room to cry her eyes out, for she had made
plans which would now be impossible, to have a new suit made for Georgie.
This she was obliged to countermand, and, ha